We got up to Putney for the Bricklayer’s Arms Yorkshire beer festival yesterday. It was a very impressive affair for a pub, with well over 100 beers on. When we arrived morris dancers were doing their thing, banging sticks, waving hankies and jingling bells. Sadly the excitement of this spectacle wasn't enough to make people shift outside to watch it on a cold February day so the pub was packed. I was suffering from a severely dry throat by the time I got to the bar so I just picked one from the handpumps in front of me and had a Timmy Taylor's Best. It was good in a like Landlord but weaker kind of way. We shuffled in to the marquee out the back after this to have a look at the range of beers available on gravity dispense.
I spotted a beer from Daleside, and as my mate Rob works there I had to have it. The beer, Pride of England, was good stuff, and unusually for Daleside a pale hop driven beer. Next I had Copper Dragon's Freddie Trueman's Ale, as I could remember seeing him at a charity cricket match when I was a child. Sadly the beer was so boring Geoffrey Boycott's Ale would have been a better name! As I was finishing this pint the entire Ramblers' Association seemed to arrive at the pub, a long line of people in outdoors gear (some even with walking poles) streaming into the pub. As we knew they'd have to go to the bar and pay a deposit for their pint glasses before they could get any beer we dashed back into the marquee where I had a pint of Summer Wine's Houblon on the carefully considered basis that I liked the name. It was another pale and hoppy one but it lacked in excitement.
At this point I was starting to look longingly at the pints of mild my friend Dan (who normally drinks lager) had been supping. Is lack of bitterness combined with a slight sweetness the way to win lager drinkers over? I may come back to this one...
It was time food next, and as we often seem to in London we ended up in a tapas bar. Amongst the quality pork and potato products there was some mucusy octopus. This was unfortunate as the effect on the lovely Lisa was as bad as a green crisp or moldy peanut and she was definitely a bit peeky this morning.
We called in at a Fuller's pub next but it had not one, not two but three big telly screens so we thought bollocks to that and moved on to the Duke's Head. This was an ornate looking old pub (though not up to Sam Smith's standards).
The beer I went for was Young's London Gold, which though I'm not generally a fan of Young's wasn't bad at all.
It was back home after that for a well deserved rest, though we didn't sleep well. The full moon was out which is sure to mean a restless night, particularly as some people I could mention seem to have lycanthropic tendencies.
